


Protoforming

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Gen, Ideations of Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Medical Procedures, Sparklings, asexual reproduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Matrix of Leadership can make sparks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protoforming

"There we go Prime, there's another one."

Optimus unshuttered his optics as his attending medic replaced the tarps over the missing parts of his body. His spark warmed minutely at the sight of the little round protoform just newly coalesced around the spark taken from him.

Colors on metal that just previously belonged to him faded out to protoform white, and he knew that on request he would receive updates on the newly minted mech. Optimus nodded weakly before allowing his helm to fall back down to it's cushion.

Three protoforms in one day.

One had been too close to his own spark for comfort.

The medic anesthetized his new wounds, and he brought his living will back up on his HUD as he allowed his body to rest. It had been finalized and 'leaked' to the population at large shortly after a long wave of sparklings took his mobility for good.

In the certain event of an erupting spark destroying one of his vital systems, he was to be kept alive by artificial means until the matrix had finished putting sparks into his body and his body's metals were completely exhausted. Whatever remained of his spark chamber would be ground into dust and spread over the former Rodion.

The matrix would be locked away until disaster recalled it into the hands of a Primal candidate that could use it.

Several of his associates, his friends, had railed against his decision, demanding the newsparks extinguished in order to save his life.

A million years ago, he would have agreed with them.

But now?

He was tired.

He was exhausted and so tired of being pulled every which by everyone. He had been fragmented in the before time, unsure of his identity and his place in the universe.

Now, he had purpose, a vocation he had pursued with a dogged, single minded determination:

 He would host newsparks until they developed and erupted on his frame, his body would be their _sentio_ _metallico_. He kept himself fueled and supplemented as best as he could manage, in repair as much as he could with the pieces of himself he had left. 

 When the matrix was done with him, he'd be done with the universe at large, and that sweet release of deactivation that called to him as if it was some far off siren would finally come to embrace him.

 Until then, he would endure, uphold his last duty in the only way he could fathom.

 In a short number of days, the matrix would pulse again, shoot lightning through his frame and settle painful prickles of white heat where the newest sparks would come into being. Weeks worth of a constant painful thrumming would herald the arrival of several new lives, and medics and spark extraction experts would fall upon him like scavenging turbofoxes. There would be no anesthetic, no painkillers until his frame was cleared of sparks and birth metal. 

 He would endure the pit in full consciousness as his body; Still some semblance of his even changed around the sparks, was carefully sliced away when the times came. Jagged open wounds would remain and only when the protoforms had been looked over would his medics fall back upon him like madmechs to close him back up.

 Nothing was to be replaced anymore, not after the ferocity and agony single newspark, huge and green, taking his newly replaced leg right below the knee had caused. 

 The matrix ate away at any new parts with the intensity of a scraplet swarm. 

 It was then that he knew in certain that his time was truly running out. 

 He couldn't hold his eventual demise against the new bots. They didn't ask to be born from his body just as much as he hadn't asked them to ignite there. 

It eased the last of his mental troubles away when the first wave of the sparklings came to see him, fully formed and courageous in bearing.... and their names... 

 Aquacharge of Optimus Prime

 Oracle of Optimus Prime

 Aerofire of Optimus Prime....

 The list went on and on, and Optimus was touched that they'd take his name for theirs, and he found himself at peace in the idea that some of these mecha- his veritable offspring- could possibly help to lead the future forwards. 

 He wouldn't be there to see it but, if there was something beyond he promised he'd be there waiting for each when their times came too. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had the prompt 'Optimus Prime's body becomes a hotspot' knocking around in my to do list since forever, and his just sorta happened. :D 
> 
> I would say I'm sorry but I'm..... n o t. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Happy new year!


End file.
